Of Bombs and Broken Hearts Or Is It All Just a Dream?
by VanillaCoffeeCream
Summary: Married!USUK. The countries themselves, against they're morals, knew it would happen eventually. Everyone was disagreeing on each other; sounded a lot like war, didn't it? "...Fifty years from now... you think we'll still be married?" Three years too early.


Author's Notes: Alright! First Hetalia fic! Round of applause! *yaaaaaay woo* Umm.. not much to say here. Just trying to get out of writer's block and I thought: "I've been obsessed with USUK lately... and my Portal fic is going nowhere due to writer's block... let's write a USUK fanfiction!" It's based off the roleplays me and my friend has been doing. England = your's truly. :) Yeah, I know, kinda lame.. We still try our best to be in character and historically accurate. I'm sorry if you see flaws. However, if you do, please tell me! When life gives you lemons, - GET MAD - make apple juice -AND BURN LIFE'S HOUSE DOWN!-

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Start A War**

_'We expected something  
Something better than before  
We expected something more_

_Do you really think you can just put it in a safe_  
_Behind a painting, lock it up and leave?_  
_Do you really think you can just put it in a safe_  
_Behind a painting, lock it up and leave?'_

* * *

_**June 30, 2013. Approximately 47 years, 10 months, and 12 days left.**_

"Three more days..." They fluttered open, face smushed against the window. He groggily untangled himself out of his seat belt and slowly eased open the door.

The man seated next to him chuckled softly. "Counting down, are we?" He jumped out enthusiastically, speeding to his side and spun around his back facing him. "Piggy back ride?"

"Mm." He refrained from moving for a moment before accepting the offer. "Sure, husband." The man let him ease on top of him, the soles of his shoes meeting his held out palms and his arms wrapping around the man's neck. He rested his head on his shoulder. "Who wouldn't, really? Every woman's dream... except I'm not one."

The man smirked, turning his head at him over his shoulder. "You're better." He exited the garage and walked up the path in content silence until they reached his private house and stopped in front of the door. "Hey babe? Can you unlock the door?"

"Hold on." The man on his back reached into his pockets and pulled out the silver keys that lead them inside. It took a few tries, but eventually he was able to insert the keys through.

"Thanks, Artie." He smiled brightly, carrying him in with ease and kicking the door closed. Alfred skidded to the couch and flipped Arthur over before sitting down beside him, Arthur straddling him.

The Brit laid his head on Alfred's shoulder tiredly, closing back his eyes. They shared a few moments of silence; after all, they had just come back from birthday shopping with Francis. They were worn out.

"...Fifty years from now.." Alfred relaxed his body, staring up at the ceiling as Arthur spoke. "...you think we'll still be married?"

Alfred looked absolutely shocked, turning his head to look at him. "OF COURSE!"

Arthur scoffed at the boy's reaction. "Perhaps I'm a bit of a pessimistic."

"Don't be!" Alfred leaned over and pecked his nose with an assuring grin. "Everything's gonna be fine!"

"If only..."

"There ya go again." Alfred slapped his leg staring at him. "The hero's here, and no matter what happens Alfred F. Jones will always and forever love Arthur Kirkland."

Arthur scrunched his face, chuckling resently. "Oooohhh, but it won't be you." He glanced up. "Obviously, it'll be me."

Alfred's lips flattened. "Mhmm sure babe." He furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed the Brit's chin. "But you better believe me in all seriousness. I _am_ telling the truth."

He recieved a bitter smile. "What if we're in war," Arthur pointed at the spot where Alfred's heart was and jabbed it with a finger. "And suppose I shoot you right here. No apologies. No dramatic scene or tears." He looked up at him.

For a while, there wasn't an answer. Alfred stared blankly into his eyes, processing his thoughts. Then, gradually, his mouth lifted into a soft, sad smile. "Then I better get a band-aid." He paused to chuckle. "America and Britain would hate each other, but Alfred Jones would still love Arthur Kirkland. No matter how much it hurts!"

* * *

_**'Walk away now, and you're gonna start a war.'**_

* * *

_**April 24, 2063. Approximately 2 years, 11 months, and 12 days in.**_

It wasn't raining. The sky was being an asshole, completely covered by gray clouds, but stray rays of sunlight still managed to shine through the cracks and give light to those who wanted to give darkness.

There was no open battlefield. They were in the middle of nowhere, but the bombs and gunshots miles away could still be heard from afar.

A lot had happened since the beginning of the 21st century. Technological advancements, cultural awareness, the Revolution of Love. That one lasted quite a while, a fight for equal rights, just like the Woman's Rights Movement and the African-American Civil Rights Movement. Except this one wasn't fighting against race or gender. It was against a touchy subject, the right to love.

To this day, there are still many who believe it is unworthy in this world. They think it's unatural. Sinful. It's not as big of a problem as it was back then, however. It's alright to feel this way now. As long as its legal and people are able to love freely like they should be, they don't mind. But there was something else that was bothering them. Something more important than their equal rights.

It was their rights in general. Over the years, as different presidents and representatives were elected all over the world and the given in society changed along with the times, things slowly progressed to new lengths. Dangerous lengths. The people feared it was coming, with the world economies in wack, the constant natural disasters, and civil wars that broke out in countries that weren't very good in reigning themselves.

Then began the fight for resources. Natural resources were put on hold to sustain the climate changes. It was all the countries could do as they worked to solve the problem before it was too late.

_"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"_

_"My people are starving because of you!"_

_"Don't you understand the situation we're in, Al? This is serious! You need to wake up!"_

_"Why should we listen to you? We're far more powerful than you had ever been!"_

* * *

_'Whatever went away, I'll get it over now  
I'll get money, I'll get funny again  
Whatever went away, I'll get it over now  
I'll get money, I'll get funny again  
Walk away now, and you're gonna start a war.'_

* * *

There he stood; pacing back and forth, hands behind his back, back straight. A glare that was sharp, strong, determined, and full of pride. Full of British pride.

Alfred struggled to break loose, ignoring the fact he was coughing up blood. His arms were tied to a barbed-wire fence. It was different then the last war. The last war between them, at least. He stared up vunerably at the man in front of him; he wouldn't look away if he was forced to.

"Kirkland, we need you over here, now!" A British soldier yelled out of England's walkie-talkie. "Kirkland!"

The countries themselves, against they're morals, knew it would happen eventually. Everyone was disagreeing on each other; sounded a lot like war, didn't it? Of course, their patriotism lead the humans to fight along with them. As long as they died for their country, they would feel like heroes, and in such a world like now, they felt it was good enough reason to die for. The humans had it hard. A few bullets through the stomach and it would be instant death. Alfred could hear their cries out of pain. He could hear the gunshots being fired. The nations had it worse.

On the other hand, the nations could feel it all happening at once. The bombs, the gunshots, the cries, the pain, the misery. They felt it all, but it's safe to say some of them enjoyed it.

Especially England. With 1000 years of revolutions and wars, by now he was used to it, and loved it. It told the world he was more than a schizophrenic arrogant little brother. In reality, he didn't need to. The world knew already. He just loved to shove it in its face.

"100 dead." Alfred's walkie-talkie lay on the grass some feet away from him. He ignored it.

"Shouldn't you be going-" Alfred hacked. "D-damn it!" He grunted, eyes squinting. Whatever was left of the two's uniforms were torn and stained with blood and sweat. Three years of war did that to them.

"HOLY SH- EXPLOSION DOWN AT DC! THE KILL COUNT JUST GOT WAY HIGHER! WE NEED ORDERS _NOW_!" Finally, Alfred's eyes darted to his walkie-talkie. "...Oh my god... WE NEED EVACUATORS! WHERE ARE MY EVACUATORS? GO SEND TROOPS DOWN AT LONDON! THERE HAS REPORTEDLY BEEN A BOMB PLANTED THERE BY AN UNKNOWN FORCE! SEND 'EM NOW!" Alfred took a deep breath and reached for it, fighting against the bounds that kept him tied to the fence. He whimpered in pain, panting heavily and cursing under his breath. "C-come on..." He was just too far away. His head hung low in defeat.

A gun clicked.

His head shot up.

England had stopped pacing. He stood in front of him with a gun in his hands. "Would you like to know why I'm doing this?" He slowly raised it up without hesitation.

Alfred smiled softly, blood trickling down his face mingling with the sweat that lingered down his neck. "...Please.."

"Thanks to you-" He glared. "The world is nothing more than a wasteland. You had your time to shine. You could've lived long, America. And you know-" He scoffed. "I thought you could too."

"WHERE ARE MY TROOPS?" Britain kicked Alfred's walkie-talkie out of reach as it chirped.

"At least I gave it a shot." Alfred grimaced in pain, but managing a smile. "I can die knowing I tried. And you're right... I had my chance. And now it's someone else to rise, time for someone else to fall." Maybe the country inside of him didn't like what he was saying; he hissed feeling pain, but stared with unnerving eyes.

"You changed, America. And so did the world. Thanks to you, and your _bloody_ laws, and your _bloody_ president, and your_ bloody _sixty states, _where's the world now? Where's the economy now? Where are we _now? We don't want to deal with your positive attitude any longer. Where has your brain been?"

Alfred chuckled unstably. "According to history... up my ass. But don't forget - I was raised by the best."

England cocked his gun again. He felt threatened.

Tensing a bit, Alfred muttered something inaudibly.

"Sir! A bomb! Can your get it through your thick skull you need to report to your headquarters! This bomb might kill you!" England's belt shouted.

The gun barrier tensed.

"You heard the man!" Alfred spit out. "Get out of here!"

England stayed put. Something, something, in his mind didn't want him to leave. He followed it wholeheartedly. It was the pride. It had nestled and hid in his mind for years, waiting for moments like these. It had such power, such meaning to him. Enough to kill a country. How else would England had dominated the world in his pirate years?

"OH DEAR GOD, LOOK AT THAT - THERE IT GOES!" Britain widened his eyes.

Enough to kill his own? Had his world domination prepared him for... his inevitable suicide?

It hit him. It hit London. His heart, his soul, his capital, his pride. There was nothing he could do. He hissed in excruciating pain, falling to his knees as his gun slipped out of his fingers in sync to the war behind them.

"A-Arthur?!" Alfred coughed, spitting out blood watching him fall.

Britain grunted, struggling to stand back wobbily without answering.

"Get up you idiot! You can't die today! That spot's already filled!" Alfred strained against the ropes. He wanted to help him. He wanted to yell at him and tell him to leave without him. _That's what heroes do, right?_

"SIR! THE BOMB WAS AMERICAN! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" England gasped hearing the words. He was able to jump back up and grip the gun, though he couldn't stop the trembling. He wasn't intimidating anymore. He wasn't strong anymore. His pride was gone. _He_ was gone. Where did _he_ go...?

_Heroes die for a good cause... I think this is a good enough reason, I mean... I _do _love him. That's a given._

"GET OUT OF THERE, _NOW_! IT'S FUCKING RUSSIA OVER THERE!" The walkie talkie interuppted the scene feet away. "UNAUTHORIZED BOMB LAUNCH, SHIT WE'RE IN HUGE TROUBLE!"

"I promised you Alfred F. Jones would always love Arthur Kirkland... I was right." Alfred whispered, quiet enough so that England didn't hear. He spoke up louder. "So? You gonna shoot me yet? Sounds like they need you pretty quick!"

England glared, panting, sweat dripping down his own face. "...WHY?!"

Alfred grinned. "'Cause I'm always gonna play the hero!" In anticipation, he closed his eyes. _I may be stupid, and I may have ruined the world or something, but.. as long as everyone is happy, I can die. Don't remember me, Artie. I don't want you to._

Their walkie-talkies seemed to be arguing at each other over the bombs and gunshots that seemed to be becoming nearer as the two faced each other exchanging their own conversation.

"SOMEBODY STOP THEM NOW! IF THEY PLANT MORE BOMBS - WHY ARE THEY TARGETTING - ...-I-I THINK THEY'RE AFTER THE BASES! ALFRED, IF YOU'RE THERE, GET YOURSELF OUT OF WHATEVER SITUATION YOU'RE IN AND STOP YOUR OWN BACKSTABBING BASTARDS BEFORE THEY DESTROY YOUR ALLY!"

Slowly, England's legs began to give way. His glare softened. His eyes grew dull. He tilted over to the side as he lost his balance.

_Damn right, they're backstabbing bastards. Who would hurt my Artie? _

He heard the gunshot. It was loud and big and it sounded like those gunshots you hear in action movies when bad guys kill a hero's friend after they've been captured. Alfred loved those movies. He used to watch them with Arthur whenever he needed a good pick-me-up. The pick-me-up wasn't the movie though.. it was Arthur himself. And he was gone.

England pulled the trigger.

* * *

_'You were always weird but I never had to hold you  
By the edges like I do now  
You were always weird but I never had to hold you  
By the edges like I do now  
Walk away now, and you're gonna start a war._

_Walk away now, and you're gonna start a war.'_

* * *

Author's Notes: Cliffhanger! I hope it's a good enough length.. please tell me if you think it should be longer! The song lyrics, I know.. a little lame. But hey! It's fun! The song matches too!

Song: Start A War - The National

There will be more of this war coming your way, but I'll also be adding LOTS of USUK fluff liiiike the wedding! Still, there'll be lots of drama, pretty sure. Thanks for reading! Review?


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